


The Wight of the Wilderness

by Phixote



Category: Runescape, Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, Mystery, Quest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phixote/pseuds/Phixote
Summary: Undisturbed for an age, a nameless soldier rises from the Wilderness and begins an interminable march southwards, bearing forgotten ruin to civilized lands.A knight sets out on a quest to slay it, unsure of where it travels or why, only knowing that such evil cannot be allowed to to reach its destination and fulfill its dark purpose.
Kudos: 5





	The Wight of the Wilderness

Silence.

An age of silence passed between the ghosts that haunted the field of cinder.

The land was loud once. It screamed. Steel tore through flesh and spells ripped the skies apart. Men bellowed orders as their gods crossed blades and rent reality asunder. Stone split, bone cracked, war engines roared.

And all the terrible noise amounted to was silence.  
  
Dead trees twisted by tainted magic dug their roots desperately into barren soil only to find magma beneath. The wraiths of countless fallen floated listlessly even as sickly crows searched their clean bones for any morsel of remaining flesh.  
  
The wind howled, the ash danced, the crows scattered.

And the silence broke at last.

A figure burst from the earth, dust falling through it like a broken hourglass until all that remained was the shape of ancient armor shrouded by a sky stained black by fire. The craftsmanship of the blade it held suggested it was once the hero of legends forgotten to mankind, while its shield still bore proud arms that none alive could possibly know. A beautiful ribbon, seemingly plucked from another reality amidst the nightmare that surrounded it, still gleamed on the once shining knight’s arm, the cerulean jewel that fastened it sparkling impossibly bright amidst the sunless land.  
  
Memories came to him, but they were out of focus, bore no importance, as though he had caught sight of a mirror through fog.

Yet the face of the lady that called him was clear as air.

“To me.” her soft voice beckoned, and the revenant obliged.

He marched through the burnt lands, untouched by monsters that he was unaware recognized him as one of their own, not realizing that his muscles no longer ached even as he walked for what seemed hours, not wondering how he knew where his lady rested, only that he must see her.  His foot fell past the earth and he stumbled into a ditch, undiscouraged as his bones clambered to pry his body above it and emerge on the other side.

He knew not this village, or why the people screamed at the sight of him, or why some fled when he had not spoken a word, or why others approached him with steel in their hands and fear in their eyes.

“ _To me._ ” her voice growled, and his thoughts disappeared amongst the fog.  
At once, he drew his blade.  
And at once, the world rediscovered its legend.


End file.
